


Fall Into This Feeling

by phoenixwings



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Intercrural Sex, Kneeling, Light BDSM, M/M, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon, Safe Sane and Consensual, Sub Victor Nikiforov
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-26
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-09-26 23:23:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9928610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixwings/pseuds/phoenixwings
Summary: “Victor,” Yuuri says, reverent, and he sounds like Victor feels. Victor lets himself fall into it.





	

Even Victor has his boundaries for how much control he’ll allow Yuuri in this exchange, and his limit is submitting to being a walking fashion disaster. He rolls down his sleeves and smooths his hair back one last time. He doesn’t have to double-check the mirror to know he looks good.

Tonight, Victor will choose their clothes, and Yuuri will decide everything else. There’s a faint tingle of excitement already building deep within Victor at that thought.

“How do I look?” Yuuri asks as he steps into the living room. The dark gray three-piece suit Victor picked out for him looks fantastic, the pink tie much better than the baby blue one that was once the only tie Yuuri owned.

“Gorgeous,” Victor says, getting up from the couch and joining his husband. He fiddles with Yuuri’s pocket square until it’s perfectly pointed at the tip. “There. Perfect.” And then, because he can’t help himself, he leans in for a kiss. He pouts when Yuuri takes a step back.

“So it’s like that?” Victor whines.

Yuuri shakes his head. “Your idea, remember?” Yuuri pauses for a moment and looks at him, considering. “Tonight, I don’t want you to talk to anyone unless they talk to you first, or you’re asking me a question. Okay?”

That’s a new one. Yuuri looks at him, expectant but patient as Victor weighs his options. Instead of answering, Victor reaches for his husband’s arm and taps Yuuri’s wrist three times, their sign for _okay_. Yuuri’s pulse jumps underneath the skin.

“All right then,” Yuuri says softly, finally giving Victor the kiss he’s been craving. “I’ll call us a taxi.”

They stay mostly silent during the taxi ride, and remarkably well-behaved considering every time Victor looks at Yuuri he gets the strong desire to tell the driver to take them back home so he can tear that three-piece suit off. Victor tries to push his fantasies aside for now, knowing it will be a long evening if he can’t. His presence is required at a celebratory dinner for one of Yuuri’s sponsors, though Victor’s been to enough of these to know there’s nothing celebratory about it. Dinners like this tend to come with a boring speech, dry chicken, and inane conversation.

Once they arrive, they pass their coats off and head to the banquet hall that’s been rented out.

“I hope Irina isn’t here,” Yuuri whispers to him as they both look around the room. Victor snorts. Irina, a reporter for some lifestyle magazine that seemed to always wrangle herself invitations to all the boring party and banquets, has the habit of touching Yuuri ‘casually’ more than was necessary, and Victor knows how much that tends to set Yuuri on edge. It's another benefit to this game they're playing —Victor gets to escape boredom by knowing his only job for the evening is listening to Yuuri, and Yuuri has the task of keeping Victor comfortable, which usually leaves little space for his anxiety to take over.

They spend the first thirty minutes mingling with the other guests before Victor spots Mila chatting with Alexei, the company rep that had secured Yuuri’s sponsorship with the sports drink corporation in the first place. Mila was the first female Russian figure skater to start getting corporate sponsorships in awhile, most likely fueled on by her silvers from the last Grand Prix and Worlds. She’d always been good, but now she was starting to bloom into her own for real. Victor had been thinking about offering to choreograph a program for her.

“Yuuri,” Victor murmurs, quiet enough that he knows no one around can hear, “Can I go talk to Mila and Alexei?”

Yuuri peers over and nods. They both greet him easily when they spot him, and Victor puts on his most charming smile. Yuuri’s sponsorship with the company is secure as long as he continues to do well, but Victor’s been around enough to know how far keeping the relationship friendly goes. He congratulations Mila on her wins again and makes sure to talk her programs up to Alexei as well. After a few minutes, Alexei excuses himself and both Mila and Victor drop their fake smiles.

“Is it always this exhausting?” Mila asks in Russian, the words coming out clipped.

Victor thinks. “Not always. Sometimes it’s fun. But at first, yes. Maybe more pressure for you, since you’re the first Russian figure skater in the women’s division to start getting sponsorships in years.”

Mila groans. “Don’t remind me. Where’s your husband, anyway? He’s the one who should have to deal with the company reps.”

Victor scans the crowd until he spots Yuuri again, pointing his hand in the general direction of his husband. Mila lets out a low whistle. “He cleans up nicely.”

“Hands off,” Victor warns, knowing that Mila will take great delight in teasing Yuuri about how great he looks later. He never expected Mila and Yuuri to hit it off so well when Yuuri moved to Russia four years ago, and Victor knows better than anyone how dangerous they can be together. The last thing he needs tonight is for them to team up.

Mila laughs. “Is that what he’s been telling you all evening?”

Victor chokes on air.

* * *

  
Victor’s painfully bored as he sits at the table and listens to company speeches, but that’s okay. He doesn’t have to pay attention to the speaker, his goal tonight is to focus on Yuuri. Luckily the speech doesn’t take long, and Victor entertains himself by trying to play footsie with Yuuri underneath the table, though he keeps getting shot down. There’s a small menu in front of them, but Victor doesn’t bother looking at it since Yuuri orders for him on nights like this.

The food doesn’t take long to arrive after they place their orders. Everyone at their table starts digging in, but Victor glances over at his husband, who nods before Victor picks up his fork. As far as fancy dinners go, it’s actually not too bad, some sort of fish in a cream sauce. It definitely looks better than the dry, rubbery chicken Yuuri apparently ordered for himself. Their table consists of him, Yuuri, Mila, Alexei, and a few more employees of the sports drink company. The table conversation isn’t the most inspiring, bu Victor knows it’s just one of those things that has to be endured. Yuuri directs the conversation back to him every once in a while so he doesn’t look standoffish, and it’s manageable.

When their entree plates are cleared and dessert plates get delivered, Mila and another woman at their table excuse themselves to go to the bathroom. It leaves the chairs on either of them empty, and Yuuri takes Victor’s hand on top of the table. It feels strangely private, even though it definitely isn’t at all. Victor hums appreciatively as he takes a bite of the tiramisu Yuuri ordered for him when he gets Yuuri’s nod to start eating.

“Is it good?” Yuuri asks, and Victor knows he isn’t asking just about the dessert.

“Very,” Victor replies, and taps Yuuri’s wrist three times for good measure. He holds out his fork to Yuuri. “Try it.”

Yuuri leans over and takes the bite from Victor’s fork. Victor presses his knee closer to Yuuri’s under the table, feeling bubbly and very much in love. He’s too cognizant of the fact they’re in public to let him slip into that warm and fuzzy place Yuuri can sometimes take him, but he lets it hover at the edge of his consciousness. This game they’re playing _is_ meant to be playful for both of them. Yuuri’s barely given Victor any orders all evening, besides ordering his food and telling him when he can and cannot talk, but just knowing he’s given that control to Yuuri to use as he wishes is enough to affect Victor.

Mila comes back to the table eventually, and Victor tries to compose himself but he still feels giggling and tipsy, and he knows it’s not the alcohol. Yuuri’s only allowed them each one glass of wine all night. Victor is just strangely intoxicated on Yuuri.

Mila shakes her head at them as they pick up their coats from the coat check and Yuuri calls them another cab.

“You two,” She says, but her tone is fond. She turns her gaze to Yuuri. “Don’t let him wear you out too much. He may be retired but you still have practice on Monday.”

“I have excellent stamina,” Yuuri deadpans, and this time it’s Mila who sputters. Victor grins as they climb into the taxi, vindicated.

* * *

  
Yuuri closes their apartment door behind him and presses a light kiss to Victor’s temple. “Go draw us a bath. I’ll be there in a minute after I take Makkachin out.”

“Okay,” Victor complies, mind still a little dazed from thinking about all the ways the rest of the evening might play out during their cab ride.

He runs the water hot as he can stand, knowing they might be in the bath for awhile and not wanting the water to cool too much. He takes care as he steps out of his own suit and makes sure not to mess it up as he hangs the jacket and pants back up. It’s not too long before he hears the door shut again and Yuuri joins him in the bath. Their tub is large, but it’s still a tight fit for two grown men. They manage to make it work, though some water does splash out of the tub as they adjust.

Yuuri places his palm against Victor’s cheek and Victor yelps at how cold they are from the temperature outside. He takes them in his own hands to warm them up.

“Wash my hair,” Yuuri orders, and Victor turns the water back on so Yuuri can duck under the faucet and wet his hair. Victor reaches for the shampoo and lathers it in his hands, inhaling the scent of strawberries and vanilla deeply before working his fingers delicately through Yuuri’s hair. Yuuri ducks his head into the water and Victor moves on to the conditioner. He takes his time, collecting Yuuri’s content sighs in his memory.

Yuuri opens his eyes when Victor’s done. “Your turn,” He says, and the water splashes out of the tub again as they trade places, making both of them laugh.

When Yuuri’s done with Victor’s hair, he washes the rest of Victor’s body down before taking the cloth and cleaning himself.

“How do you want this to go?” Yuuri asks.

“Thought you were deciding that tonight,” Victor counters.

Yuuri’s mouth quirks up. “Maybe I want your opinion."

Victor glances down at Yuuri’s legs, which are wrapped around him to make room for both of them in the tub. It’s rather innocent right now, but. . . He squeezes Yuuri’s thigh, and Yuuri chuckles knowingly.

“That, hmm?”

“I love your thighs,” Victor says, “I love you.” The warm feeling that’s been steadily building all evening washes over him now. Yuuri flicks some of the rapidly-cooling water at him.

“Such a sap,” Yuuri teases. He gets out of the tub. “Wait here, I’ll come get you.”

Victor waits, well aware that Yuuri hasn’t actually said what he’ll be allowed tonight. That’s fine with Victor — he likes the anticipation.

Yuuri comes back quickly, wearing only a pair of boxer-briefs. He helps Victor out of the tub and wraps him in a fluffy towel. He doesn’t handle Victor any clothes, and even though Victor tends to forsake his clothes quickly anyway, there’s something about being on display for Yuuri that makes him shiver. Yuuri leads him to the living room. There’s a pillow beside the couch and Victor kneels down on it. It’s soft beneath his knees and he’s slipped into that place where he just feels incredibly content, even as arousal thrums through him.

Yuuri sits on the couch, and Victor leans forward enough to rest his head against Yuuri’s leg. Yuuri flips through his phone and runs his fingers through Victor’s still slightly-damp hair. Yuuri doesn’t ignore Victor — neither of them are into that — but he does treat the situation as if nothing's out of the ordinary, and he likes to make Victor wait.

After a while Yuuri slips his underwear down and starts stroking himself right in front of Victor. He’s only half-hard, but Victor sits up eagerly, happy to take the evening somewhere.

Yuuri smirks down at him. “I guess I know what you want.”

“Yes,” Victor breathes out. Yuuri moves his hand away, and Victor leans forward, waiting once again for Yuuri’s nod. Victor starts with his tongue first, licking around the head before really putting his mouth on Yuuri’s now full erection. He knows all the tricks to make Yuuri fall apart in just a matter of minutes at this point.

Before Yuuri, most of Victor’s sexual experiences were one-offs. There were a few regrettable instances in there, but for the most part they had been pleasurable for everyone involved, and Victor had few complaints. But Yuuri is his first real relationship, and it’s the first time he’s understood what it means to really learn somebody’s body, to figure out what exactly his husband likes best. Four years in, and he’s still constantly learning. He groans around the girth in his mouth, pleased when the movement draws a moan out of Yuuri above him.

He also knows exactly how close Yuuri is when his hips shake and he starts to lose some of that carefully controlled composure he’s been hanging onto all evening. Victor eagerly works his mouth over Yuuri’s length until Yuuri’s release spills down his throat. He doesn’t try to hide his smug satisfaction when he pulls away.

Yuuri pants above him and tangles his fingers in Victor’s hair. Victor waits until Yuuri’s caught his breath enough to speak again.

“You still want to fuck my thighs?”

“Yes,” Victor rasps out.

“Do you think you’ve earned it?” Yuuri’s tone is lighthearted. In a different context, when they’ve agreed the goal is to make Victor cry and beg, it might be a warning. Here, it’s an honest question.

“Yes,” He repeats, and hopes that his husband agrees.

“I do too,” Yuuri says, and pats his lap. Victor scrambles onto the couch, not unlike a puppy, and it makes Yuuri giggle. Victor climbs over Yuuri and sits up on his knees. Yuuri reaches out and strokes Victor’s cock a few times, coaxing it to full hardness and smearing pre-come down the shaft. Yuuri pulls back, giving Victor a wicked grin before shifting down so his head is resting against the armrest and raising his legs straight into the air. Victor scoots forward and brings Yuuri’s ankles down to hook over his shoulder. Yuuri fumbles for the lube they’ve started keeping in the side drawer of the coffee table and pours a generous amount between his own legs. The sight makes Victor’s mouth water.

“Go ahead,” Yuuri encourages. “Take what you need.”

Victor groans as he presses forward, his cock slipping in between the delightful crevice of Yuuri’s thighs and up over his stomach. Victor whimpers at the sensation and the view of his leaking cock moving over the shadow and valley of Yuuri’s skin, watching it glide over the white stretch marks close to Yuuri’s groin that in other circumstances Victor loves running his tongue over. Yuuri’s thighs are delectable right now; with an underlying firmness of muscle from years of training and ballet, but still softened slightly by the off-season.

It’s no secret that Victor loves Yuuri’s thighs, and Yuuri loves how much Victor loves them, which just spurs Victor on.

It works out to be a very enjoyable cycle for both of them.

“Oh,” Yuuri says, staring up at Victor with wide eyes and still looking blissed out from his own orgasm. Victor wants nothing more but to lean down and kiss him, but the angle they’re at makes that impossible, so instead he settles for rubbing his cock in the dip of Yuuri’s thighs with renewed vigor, fucking forward thoroughly and appreciating the slick glide of skin that makes him feel every inch of contact. The inside of Yuuri’s thighs are wonderfully pink and growing more flush with every push and pull between them. Victor’s breath comes out in ragged, broken stutters and he’s so close but he wants to draw this out as long as possible, a reward he plans on savoring as much as he can.

“Yuuri, please,” Victor begs when he’s at the point of barely hanging on to the edge. All he desperately wants is to be allowed to go over that precipice.

Yuuri hums. “You can come,” he says, almost lazily. Victor moans as his come splatters across Yuuri’s thighs and stomach and he falls forward between Yuuri’s legs.

Yuuri carefully disentangles his legs from over Victor’s shoulder and spreads his knees apart. Yuuri reaches across the space between them to ruffle Victor’s hair and push the bangs away from his eyes. “Now be a good boy and clean up your mess.”

Victor’s face heats at the words, but he bends down and licks perfunctorily at the mess over Yuuri’s stomach and thighs. He bites at Yuuri’s inner thighs before he sits back on his heels and looks his husband in the eyes.

“Victor,” Yuuri says, reverent, and he sounds like Victor feels. Victor lets himself fall into it, because it’s so pleasant and safe, and Yuuri laughs as Victor burrows into the couch with him.

It’s Yuuri’s job to get them actually cleaned up, but Victor is reluctant to give up his octopus ways, so he drapes himself over his husband as they move to the kitchen to wipe down with a rag. Yuuri fusses over Victor, pressing him to sit at the table and getting him to drink juice and water. They move back to the couch before long, and Victor sighs happily at finally being able to cuddle with his husband _properly_.

“Was that enjoyable?” Yuuri asks after they’ve sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“Very much, solnyshko,” Victor murmurs as he nuzzles against Yuuri’s chest. “The not talking unless someone spoke to me. That was new.”

Yuuri hums again. “Did you like it?”

“Mm-hmm,” Victor says into Yuuri’s chest.

“That’s a surprise,” Yuuri says dryly, and Victor makes a noise of protest. Yuuri just laughs again and reaches for the TV remote.

They flip through channels together for the rest of the night, though neither of them pay much attention to the TV as they’re both too busy trading lazy kisses until neither of them can keep their eyes open and silently agree to head to bed. True to form, Victor once again curls up against Yuuri’s side as if he could possibly get any closer. Night after night, it’s his favorite place to be.

**Author's Note:**

> I've had a bad week, writing these two is my coping strategy. They're so far gone on each other. 
> 
> Feel free to come chat with me about YOI or anything else over on [Tumblr](https://burningphoenixwings.tumblr.com)!


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